Free The Prophecy by Melissa Luznicky Garrett Page B

problem. I paused the video game and
the music cut off. Swiping Meg’s remote out of her hand, I turned it around.
    “Hold
it this way. You have to point this end,” I said, giving the controller
a shake, “at that sensor up there, or you won’t score any points.”
    “What
sensor?”
    Tapping
the thin black bar taped to the top of the entertainment center, I said, “ This sensor. It’s what tracks your movements.” I looked at my aunt in exasperation.
“Haven’t you ever played a video game before? You’re not that old.”
    “There
was a Pac-Man and Asteroids at the Pizza Hut on the reservation,” she said. I
wasn’t sure if she was joking or not. With Meg, it was sometimes hard to tell.
    “Pac-Man?”
Priscilla said. “That’s the dinosaur of video games.”
    “It’s a
classic!” Meg protested. “Sarah’s mom was a pro. I used to watch her play all
the time. The only other person who could beat her was Charley.”
    I made
the sign of the devil. “Don’t speak the witch’s name.”  
    Meg gave
me a look. “Oh, stop. She wasn’t nearly as bad as what I remember.”
    I
snorted. “Oh, really? In my op—”
    “Come
on, come on!” Priscilla said, shoving her thick mop of hair out of her face while
shaking her remote at us in impatience. “We have, like, five more minutes
before break is over. We’re wasting valuable time here.”
    I un-paused
the game and Dynamite blared from the television speakers once more. After
a moment, though, I noticed that Priscilla was copying my moves step-for-step.
    “Hey,
you’re supposed to be the girl with the green dress!”
    Priscilla
glanced my way, a look of comic horror on her face. “What? I thought I was the
girl with the red dress.”
    I
laughed. “That’s me!”
    Priscilla
stopped mid-step as she contemplated the scores on the screen. “You mean I’m
not winning?”
    “No, you’re
not winning. I am!”
    “Wait,”
said Meg, still tripping over her own feet. “Am I the guy with the yellow hat
or the other guy?”
    I
collapsed onto the couch, unable to stop laughing. “You’re the other guy, Meg! This is a freaking disaster.”
    The
back door swung open and David popped his head inside. “Meg, what are you
doing? In case you haven’t notice, we’re swamped out there. You’re supposed to
be helping me, not in here goofing off.”
    “You’re
just jealous we didn’t ask you,” I teased.
    “Whatever,”
he said. “I could out-dance all of you with my mad skills.”
    “What
mad skills?” Priscilla said.
    “These
mad skills.” David stepped into full view and performed some weird combination
of Michael Jackson’s moonwalk and . . . something else.
    “What
the heck do you call that ?” Priscilla said.
    “Haven’t
you ever heard Walk Like an Egyptian ?”
    Meg
laughed. “Melody used to listen to that song all the time. I thought she’d
drive Mom and Dad crazy with it. That, and Eternal Flame .”
    David
stretched out his arm to Priscilla and began swaying from side to side, singing
some cheesy ballad I’d never heard before.
    Priscilla,
who’d had a secret crush on David for years, looked like she was about to pass
out. She fanned herself with her hand and fluttered her eyelids. “Omigod. He’s
hot. And he sings.”
    “Gross!”
I said. Reaching for a pillow from the couch, I chucked it at David’s head.
“Get out of here!”
    He
began singing louder, but thankfully left.
    Meg,
laughing, tossed her remote onto the couch and held up her hands. “I’ve got to
get back to work. I guess you win, Sarah.”
    Priscilla
flopped down next to me. “I’m out, too.”
    “What?
Come on,” I said. “Just one more dance.” I began flipping through the songs,
looking for a particularly difficult one I’d been practicing on the sly.
    “You’re
too good at this,” Priscilla complained. And then she added, as if reading my mind,
“What do you do, get up in the middle of the night and dance by yourself? It’s
no fun playing with